


The Flightless Birds

by vampgirltish



Category: GOT7
Genre: Abuse, Found Families, Gang AU, Gen, Tags to be added, Violence, attempted suicide, but dont worry it doesnt happen lol, drug mention but not actually drugs, im not sure what to tag this as
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 16:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampgirltish/pseuds/vampgirltish
Summary: What once was JJ Project became the Flightless Birds. They never fought for anything but what was right. They were a bunch of misfits, but they were family.[GOT7 Gang AU.]





	The Flightless Birds

It had originally been Jinyoung and Jaebum. They’d been a duo, skipped town from Riverdale. God... Riverdale. The boujee part of the city where tiny blonde girls walked their tiny dogs with their large husbands in manicured hellscape suburbia. But they’d left there now, moved to the other side of the river to Formont, rented a shitty apartment. Called it their home.

Their duo was JJ Project. They began as just defending little old ladies who had their purses stolen. The violence grew into a sort of aggression towards ne’er-do-wells who had anything against the common good. But when Jackson showed up on their doorstep cold and alone after getting near beaten to death for a pack of gum and four dollars, JJ Project wouldn’t work as a name anymore. So they dropped JJ Project and became the Flightless Birds. Little did they know their nest of three would grow to seven by the time they were a year into existence.

Jackson was the first to come in. Mugged for what little he had on his person, and had wandered to the first apartment he could find to make a call to someone, anyone to help him. He’d stumbled upon Jinyoung and Jaebum’s apartment, asking if he could use a phone. Jinyoung led him inside, his mouth a thin line as he made eye contact with Jaebum who was sitting on the couch. Jaebum looked over at the boy Jinyoung had led in, and made the connection. 

“What happened?” was the first thing out of Jaebum’s mouth. Jackson explained everything. They let him use the phone, he called, thanked them for their time and left. They expected that to be the last of him, but Jackson came back two days later with armfuls of clothes and the still purple bruises on his body. They’d asked why he came back. “My girlfriend left,” was all the answer Jackson supplied. Jinyoung looks away, and Jaebum pats Jinyoung’s shoulder once on the way over to hug Jackson thoughtfully, but tentatively. Was this too far? But Jackson drops his things on the doorstep, squeezing Jaebum closer, eyes closing and a sigh escaping his lips.

He hadn’t told this to the other two, but when that had happened, Jackson finally had felt at home.

Next came Mark. Jackson had gone out to a restaurant to grab some take out for the three of them when he’d settled eyes on a guy sitting alone at a table for two. He looked tired, stretched out, legs leaning on the chair at the opposite end of the tiny square table. Jackson moves closer after having ordered the food and being told it would be ready in fifteen minutes. The guy had a few things in front of him. A pack of cigarettes, a cell phone, a wallet, and his lighter. The lighter had a tiny cartoon bird on it, oddly unfitting compared to the guy sitting there. In his fingers, a cigarette, about a third burned, ashes collecting in a weak grey cylinder still gripping to the bits of ground tobacco still in the paper. He flicked it expertly with his fingers and the ashes pool on the table as he adjusted the cigarette further, the orange part now tucked comfortably between them. 

Jackson can’t keep his mouth shut. “Why buy them if you’re not going to smoke them?”

The guy shrugs, reaching his free hand to offer Jackson the pack. “What, do you wanna smoke one?”

“Eugh, no.” Cigarettes didn’t really coincide with Jackson’s efforts to be healthy.

“Then don’t worry about it,” the guy says, flicking the ashes again as the little pile grows. He turned the lit end to face him, watching the orangey burn of the flame as it ate away at the tobacco and paper. He seemed to be interested in it. Jackson watched too.

When the flame got too close to the filament, passing the ring around it, the guy stubs it out against the table, before taking the back of his hand and brushing the contents off the table onto the ground. To Jackson, it seemed like quite the waste. He hears his name called inside, and he goes to get his food. When he comes back, he finds the lighter still on the table, with a cigarette next to it. Written on it is simply a phone number and the name  _ Mark _ . 

Jackson immediately takes these things home with the food and offers them to Jaebum and Jinyoung. Over dinner, Jaebum calls Mark and invites him into the gang. He said he had a hunch.

Youngjae was the next of their group. Jaebum had been patrolling the night when he heard the sounds of a fistfight. Cold air collecting his sigh of heat into a cloud, he hurries a bit faster, trying to find the source. He hears a girl whimpering, and the sounds of grunts. He hears fists against flesh. He turns a corner and... sees a girl. Her back is against the wall, dark brown hair in two little buns. She’s wide eyed, watching this go down, twisting the hem of her cropped shirt in her fingers. She was wearing next to nothing, probably cold in the night air. Jaebum strips his coat and puts it over her shoulders, offering the brown eyed girl a gentle smile.

He turns his attention forward. A strawberry blonde was beating the shit out of another guy. “You fucking bastard!” he says. “How dare you lay a single fucking hand on her, how fucking dare you!” Fists a flurry of flesh against flesh. Blood down the guy’s face and all over the strawberry blonde’s. Jaebum steps closer, hands up in a gesture of nonviolence.

“Hey, let’s break it up, what’s going on here?” His hands drop as the two slow, tucking into his pockets. An innocent gesture but a means of getting close to his pocketknife, should he dreadfully need it.

The girl is still shaking and whimpering softly from a few feet away. 

The strawberry blonde looks up at Jaebum, eyes ablaze, “This fucking bastard.”

“Hey!” the other man responds.

“You’re a worthless son of a bitch for even trying to touch her like that, you sad excuse for life.”

“I didn’t do anything out of line, with her dressed like that it only made sense.”

The girl’s cries get a little louder. She probably felt this was her fault. Jaebum frowns, “Listen. I’ll call the cops, get this guy an ambulance and a trip to jail, and I won’t say a word about how you were beating his ass. Sound good?”

The guy protests but the blonde smiles. Jaebum pulls out his phone. He wasn’t looking for confirmation from an abuser. He dials 119 and does as he had said. He grabs the blonde by the arm, “Let’s get out of here. You stay here buddy, your ambulance is on the way.” Clearly the arrest was outweighed by his need for medical help, seeing as the man just laid there. They head towards the girl, who was still huddled in Jaebum’s jacket. “You can keep the jacket. Don’t worry. He’ll be off to jail and won’t bother you or anyone else again.”

She offers a watery smile. “Th-Thank you.”

The blonde offers a hand, “If I can introduce myself, I’m Youngjae.” A complete switch. He was now sunny smiled and kind eyed. “I can’t imagine how that felt, but I can tell you that I have some sympathy. It’s okay, and it wasn’t your fault.”

She nods, “Thank you.” Shaking his hand, she steps back. “I think I-I should head home.” The two walk her home and then Youngjae mentions he should head home too. Jaebum stops him.

“How would you feel about working with me?”

“What for?”

“I’m part of a gang--”

“Not interested,” Youngjae cuts in.

But Jaebum continues, “--that works to protect citizens from violence and crime.”

“I’m in,” Youngjae says with immediate response.

“Good. I think you’ll be good to have. Nice to meet you, Youngjae, I’m Jaebum.”

Then there was Bambam. He never had any other name but that. Given to him by the other kids because his style had such a bam to it. But Bambam hated it. He just wanted to be himself, be like normal nineteen year olds in the simpler towns like Stockton and Aireville. He wanted to be normal. Not this boujee, white blonde pretend version of himself. Dressed to the nines but his emotional strength was about as low as nine at this point. He’d had enough. 

He’d left his house at half past nine, wearing yesterday’s clothes. He walks his way down, taking his time and enjoying the walk. He hears the sounds of ambulances, the sounds of crime and the sounds of crickets. He continues his way down the path, through the park. Bambam was tired. As he walked, he couldn’t help but reflect on it all.  _ How did you get such expensive clothes? You really looked handsome today with your makeup! Are those shoes Gucci? Is that Yves Saint Laurent?  _

Bambam was tired of appeasing these people to look good. He was unhappy trying to make them all happy while feeling miserable. He worked so hard to build this image, he worked so hard to be what they wanted that he never really had time to live his life happily. He hid his warm toned skin behind makeup to make him paler, he kept his hair blonde because that was what people wanted, he talked of surgery to modify his face. He never intended to go through with it, but the mere discussion of the surgery kept the fake friends he had satiated. He walks further, finally reaching where the river was. Signs and fences around told him not to cross or get any closer. They told him of the threat of the geese that may bite. He didn’t care. He climbs carefully over the fence, purpose far outweighing these risks from the signs.

Getting closer, he felt determined. He doesn’t take off his expensive shoes as he steps into the water. He was going to do this, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about pleasing anyone but himself anymore. He gets waist deep in the river, the muddy bank under his feet growing more and more soft.

What he hadn’t expected was to hear a voice.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Bambam flinches. Was it a police officer on patrol? What if he got in trouble? He doesn’t say anything. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to know what you’re doing.” Bambam remains silent. “You’re probably going to catch a cold.”

Bambam turns to look and sees a guy, probably a little over twenty. He’d taken off his coat and was offering it to him. “What’re you doing?” Bambam doesn’t know how to answer the stranger. He steps back out of the water, soaking wet. “Were you going to drown yourself?” Bingo. Bambam nods slowly. The guy frowns. “That’s no good. C’mere, kid. What’s your name?” As the two walked, Bambam explained his feelings. The guy introduced himself as Jinyoung, and he said that he understood where he was coming from. He offered Bambam a place to stay. Bambam stayed with them.

And last was the youngest. Yugyeom. He’d run away now, having enough. He was battered and bruised and just so tired. Wouldn’t it be nice to curl up in a nice warm bed? He ran past houses, bare feet slapping concrete almost painfully but he can’t notice it over the other dull pain on his body. As he ran past the houses, he can’t help but wonder what it would have felt like to have a normal family. A normal father. Were the other families huddled in front of TV, watching some family movie, sharing laughter and stories?

All Yugyeom could listen to now was the sound of his heartbeat and the distant yelling of his father. “You bastard, get back here!” Yugyeom knew better than to turn back as he kept running, faster and faster. He had distance on his father whom he knew was running after him. He manages to escape and hides himself away in an alley in the city. Next to a trashcan in the alley, there was a creature. It was dirty and sad looking, but it just needed love. He moves closer to the dog, who was cowering away. He pushes his bangs from his forehead, smiling gently at the dog. The smile is like a jagged crack across his face, unfamiliar and strange on his broken and battered face. The dog looks at him curiously as he offers a hand to it. Not forcing, just being friendly.

The dog moves slowly closer, licking his hand. He looks at it, “What’s your name?” As if the dog could answer. It barks. The dog was nearly brown, so he decides to name her Coco. He pet her gently, calling her by her name. Tears ran down his cheeks now. Where could he go? It was just him and this poor dog... The dog his only friend in this whole world. They sit together in the alley, a dirty dog and a dirty boy. Both abandoned.

Youngjae was walking past to get some things from the convenience store, having a craving for an ice cream bar. He catches his eye on the alley, peering down it. A sense of urgency. He steps closer in the alley and hears the rustle of movement, cowering back. Away from him. His eyes scan around, first seeing a dog. Brown, dirty, wide eyed. He offers a hand to it and the dog barks. More movement. A tiny, soft voice, fearful, “Coco, shhh....”

It was then that Youngjae saw a tiny boy, just as afraid as the dog. “Hey,” Youngjae offers. The boy says nothing. He simply cowers back further. Youngjae can see the bruises and batterings on the boy’s face and body. His shirt torn and bloodied. His hair matted with dried blood from his forehead. Youngjae can assess what had happened in a few different ways. 

“Were you mugged?” he asks the boy. The boy shakes his head.

“Were you attacked?” A shrug.

“Were you abused?” Youngjae asks. He’s afraid if this is true...

The boy looks down. That was confirmation he needed. Oh boy...

Youngjae bends down, hand clenched in a fist to keep his anger at bay. It wasn’t this boy’s fault. “What’s your name?”

“Yugyeom,” the boy says quietly.

“Yugyeom, who did this?”

Yugyeom shakes his head. He doesn’t want to say anything. Yugyeom’s voice is so tiny and soft as he says, “I can’t talk about it.”

“Okay,” Youngjae accepts. He wasn’t going to force it. He offers a hand to the boy. “Do you want to come out of the cold? I can clean your wounds for you at least. I’m Youngjae.”

Youngjae smiles at the boy, and as Yugyeom makes hesitant eye contact with him, a smile pulls at his cheeks. It’s a small smile, clearly not the extent to how he really smiles, but it was enough. It was a start.

“Who’s this?” he asks, asking about the dog.

“Her name is Coco. Since she’s brown.”

Youngjae smiles, guiding Yugyeom and Coco back to the apartment, ice cream plans forgotten in the sake of something more important. He offers the shower to Yugyeom, and tells the boy he was going to give the dog a bath in the sink. When she was bathed, it turned out Coco was pure white. Drying her off, he lets the dog wander, where she stakes her claim on Jaebum’s favorite armchair. She falls asleep. Yugyeom comes back, and Youngjae dresses his wounds. Yugyeom tells him quietly what had happened.

Their nest of three became a nest of seven, and they became as tight knit as family. Each of them had their own stories, their own pains. Youngjae and Yugyeom shared a room together, Jaebum and Jinyoung shared a room together, Jackson and Bambam shared a room together, and Mark chose to stay by himself. This was how they worked. They became their own entity, never one without the other. Formont was known for gangs, but they lightened that tension by being a gang that didn’t hurt, but helped. They were the Flightless Birds, and their only intent was to help others. They had knives, but only to defend themselves and those that needed defending. It was never for offensive, always for defensive.

The group began to come up with plans. They started looking for what Jackson called cases, what the rest called situations. Searching for crime in the alleys and streets of their poor town. Trying to make the shitty world less shitty. They all had their own tragedies to deal with, and they wanted to try to ease everyone else’s. That was all they knew how to do.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave me comments and tell me what you think <3


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